In the Shadows of War
by Ice Krystal
Summary: WWII, 1944. Cynthia Fletcher, daughter of Apollo, is a master of archery and horseback riding. Lucy Vann, daughter of Poseidon, is a prodigy with swords and water. Roy Kingston, son of Zeus, is the king of lightning and flying. And Malcolm Bishop, son of Hades, is a master of the mind and darkness. But how can these mere teenagers be able to sway the most horrible war of all time?


**IN THE SHADOWS OF WAR**

* * *

**Prologue: The Future**

* * *

"Huh? What's this?"

It was a cool day in early spring, a year after the war with Gaea, and Chiron had decided to finally follow the tradition of spring cleaning and asked Percy and his friends to sort through everything in the attic to get rid of any junk. It was a daunting task, but the demigods gladly took that over cleaning out the stables.

Leo had been sorting through a dilapidated box full of paper junk, finding nothing of value, until he stumbled across an old diary. He didn't have to make out the swirly scrawl that read _Cynthia Fletcher_ to know it belonged to some girl; the journey was faded, and once had probably been gold, with flowery designs lining the edges.

Nico, who was sitting across from him with his own box, narrowed his eyes. "It's a journal, obviously. I wonder why Chiron would keep something like that."

"Let me see," Piper said, and Leo passed it over to her. "It belongs to someone named Cynthia Fletcher."

Hazel's eyes widened. "I know her."

Frank, who was visiting the camp, gave his girlfriend a startled look. "You do?"

"Well, sort of," she said, looking down at the diary in Piper's hands. "I knew of her—back in the 40s. She was the daughter of the famous singer Veronica Fletcher."

Nico lowered his gaze. "My mother loved her music. She must have been a demigod, then."

Piper carefully opened the journey. Inside, behind the cover, in front of the first page, were two things—a fiery red feather and a faded black-and-white photo of some kids wearing the Camp Half-Blood t-shirts.

"That looks like a pegasus feather," Annabeth said. "May I see the picture?"

"Sure," Piper replied, delicately taking it out and handing it to her friend.

Annabeth studied the photograph, scrutinizing the picture with her stormy gray eyes. There were six teenagers, all clearly from the 1940s, probably the World War II era, since both Nico and Hazel were familiar with the mother of the owner of the diary. The girl in the center looked about seventeen, and was beaming at the camera. Her curly hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, tied with a ribbon. To her right was another girl, with pitch black hair that curled down to her chin, and a darker complexion. Her smile was gentle and warm. The girl on her left seemed to be forcing a smile, and her hair was the lightest out of the girls; she was probably a redhead. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, ringlets framing her face. Behind them were three boys. The boy in the center was the tallest, and had pale hair in a military cut. He had a wide grin on his handsome face. To his right was a boy who did not look amused at all. His black hair was neat, but his eyes looked cold. Last but not the least, the boy on the left was the oldest, an African American. His hair was also in a military cut, and he was smiling friendlily.

Annabeth checked the back of the photo. There, again, was that swirling handwriting. This time, it said, "We are the heroes."

"We should show this to Chiron," Percy said after looking at the picture and the writing over Annabeth's shoulder. "He kept it for a reason, and we shouldn't just throw it out."

"I agree," Jason said with a nod. "Let's go."

* * *

The demigods found the centaur in the middle of cleaning the living room in the Big House. Well, he didn't really look like a centaur at the moment, being in his magical wheelchair and all. Currently, he was dusting the furniture.

"Chiron!" Percy called. "There's something we have to show you!"

The centaur paused in his task, turning his head to look at them all. "Hmm, what is it?"

"We found this journal, sir," Annabeth told him, walking up to him with the little book in her hands. "It belongs to Cynthia Fletcher."

Chiron's expression softened. "Ah, Cynthia. She was a daughter of Apollo, and one of my best students. The feather inside that journal was from her pegasus, Flash."

"What about the photo?" Piper inquired. "It said _'We are the heroes'_ on the back."

Chiron chuckled. "Why don't you read and see. Cynthia's story is not one I get to tell often. She is often ignored compared to her friends, seeing as her father is one of the underrated gods. I believe you could learn much from her."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Is that okay? Reading her diary... is like an invasion of privacy!"

"Cynthia has been dead for years. And I don't think she would mind. Perhaps you could give her the recognition she deserves."

The demigods exchanged looks.

"...All right, let's do it," Percy said.

* * *

_June 1, 1944_

_Dear Diary,_

_My ohter diary got stollen again. Someone broek into my loker at school and took it. The oonlie reeson I even bring it to skool is cause writin calms me. I get so anscious durin the day sometime, I just need a moment to take a brake and write. Archeree and just humin a tune help to but I cant do that durin skool. The staff hate me so much alreadie. Now I just feel so crumie._

_Lucy has aggreed to help me find my other diary like allways, but I dobt well find it. We need someone with sluthin skills like a gumshoe or a g-man to find the stupid thing. Id setle for Malcolm but he's back at Camp Half-Blood, livin their year round and all. Lucy should realie do that too, since monters are allway showin up, but she dont wanna leef me alone._

_Shes... far to kind to me. I realie dont diserve her as a friend, much les a best frend. Samee wit Malcolm. I dont diserve anythin. I never hav and I never will. Im such a flat-hed..._

_My mom chewed me out for "losin" it again to. I just want skool to end and the Rigens to get over wit so I can go back to camp! Thats the onlie place where I can be myself! Maybe I can convinse my mom to let me stay their year round, to. That way Lucy wold have no excuse, and she culd be safe, and I culd be hapie._

_Its not like I can pass the Rigens anieway... This year, I have Trigg, Inglissh, Ameerican Hisstorie, Chemisstrie, and French to take. Sometime I wissh I waz born a dauter of Aphrodite so I culd speak French flooentlee and have at leest one class I culd be an ace. But thosse times are rare because I reallie do not like the Aphrodite girls._

_Well, I need to sleep. Its a full moon toonite, so Im gona keep my drapes open so the moonlight can shine insyde. It always calms me down, seein the moon, cause it reeminds me of Artemis, my aunt._

_~Cynthia_

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**This fanfic, as you can tell, is about what happened during World War II for the demigods! The protagonist is named Cynthia Fletcher, a daughter of Apollo. I tried making her journal entry look dyslexic, but seeing as I am not, I hope it's accurate.**

**Anyways, every chapter after this will contain a glossary for 40s slang so you understand what you're reading better. I'm trying to make this as accurate as possible with the culture at the time. **

**I don't have much else to say as this is the prologue, otherwise than please review!**


End file.
